


The Land of Bees and Blossoms (Re-Greening)

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: Kino no Tabi | Kino's Journey - All Media Types, Mad Max: Fury Road, fury road
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kino and Hermes wander across a parched country and agree to look for a Green Place as they continue their travels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Land of Bees and Blossoms (Re-Greening)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to regonym for beta help!

There once was a King who raised his armies as skeleton boys. He hoarded his goods and saw his people as the same. He ruled because the people were afraid, and thirsty. 

 

Kino has been driving through the desert for days. The dry grate of Kino’s tongue isn’t helped by Hermes’ constant complaints about his own thirst.  
“I’ll fill you up as soon as we get somewhere with gas.” Kino promises and pats Hermes’ fuselage. “Just get us to those Mesas,” Kino urges. 

The wide, green-capped spires shimmer in the heat ahead of them. Hermes’ motor grumbles but the bike doesn’t falter. As they approach the mesas, the hunched shapes of shantytown tents resolve themselves out of the sand-brown of desert. The low-slung shelters wear their poverty in poor patching and dirt, like the hollow, hungry eyes that fearfully track Kino’s progress. Kino doesn’t wave and the people don’t call out. Closer to the towering cliff faces, Kino sees the large machinery, systems of gears and pulleys, technology far beyond that of the sand-dwelling hovels on the outskirts. There are more people gathered here, a sea of gnarled, sun-beaten figures. Kino drives up the center path, a cleared swath of tire tracks leading to a clearing below one of the large metal lifts. Dust and dirt cleared from the bike goggles, Kino lifts them to nestle back into their spot on the hat. Kino looks around. 

There’s no sign of water or someplace to find gas down at the cliff base. Craning up to see, Kino spots white, skeletal forms flitting over the upper reaches of the cliff face, where open caverns likely house more people.  
“You can’t leave me!” Hermes demands, likely catching Kino’s gaze assessing the likeliest climbing route to reach the upper areas. The threatening rumble of approaching engines doesn’t give Kino time to respond. The first car roars up the dirt track and Kino guides Hermes to the side, pulling them both out of the way of the returning caravan. Behind the lead car is a massive black tanker truck. The truck pulls forward, with a low growl before the engine cuts off. It reminds Kino of the watchful form of a vulture, black with sprays of brown metal like jagged feathers. More of the white-painted skeleton men clamber down from the truck. Kino stays still, quietly observing their grinning faces and whooping cries. Through the cacophony of movement, Kino’s eyes are drawn to the stillness of the woman who swings down from the cab. Her skin is unpainted and though her shorn hair reveals the proud curve of her skull, Kino would not mistake her for a skeleton. When their gazes meet, the woman’s eyes are hard and sharp, like Kino would use to spark a fire. Kino takes a step forward. One of the white-skull men darts forward at her. Kino doesn’t flinch, and the woman waves him back. Kino wonders at the flash of emotion over the woman’s face. It’s too quickly schooled to stoic facade for Kino to decide if it was confusion or hope.

“Who are you, where are you from?” The woman barks. 

“I am Kino. I am a traveler,” Kino calls back. “And this is Hermes,” Kino adds after a moment. Strangely Hermes stays silent. Perhaps Hermes is intimidated by the mangy pack of cars, or the large black vulture the woman drives. The woman’s metal hand beckons Kino forward. Kino cautiously wheels Hermes another few steps. 

“Why are you here?” The woman asks. Kino notes she still hasn’t given a name.

“I would like to refill my water, and Hermes here would like some gas.” The skeletons laugh raucously but the woman holds up a sharp hand. They fall silent. 

“We rarely get travelers,” the woman says. Her voice is pitched loud enough for the rest of her party to hear. “You will be my guest, and we will see what hospitality there is to offer.” 

Kino nods. At the woman’s command the chains above them clank and creak as the giant platform lowers. Wheeling Hermes aboard, Kino takes the far corner of the platform, carefully eyeing the grinning skeletons as they climb aboard. Some of the hunched, hungry people try to get on the platform as well, and are violently shoved away. Hermes leans heavily against Kino’s side, and Kino takes comfort patting his seat. The ground drops away beneath them as the platform lifts Kino up into the sky. 

The caverns are full of people, like Kino had expected, but almost everyone Kino sees are more of the skeleton men and boys. Kino trails in the woman’s wake and sees no one else like her. Most of the corridors Kino peers down don’t reveal anything new, weapons and the frantic termite scurry of thin white limbs, ancient rusting machines, stacks of barrels and storage sacks with unknown contents. One room is lined with seated women, clothed from the waist and either suckling babies or with their breasts suctioned to thick white tubes. Their amiable chatter ceases as the woman’s entourage passes. Kino nods politely and does not comment. The skeletons who arrived with the woman split off on branching hallways until only Kino and Hermes are left, trailing in her wake. They enter the first of a series of rooms. Kino turns up to the light; the space is wider, and golden-soft after the dark corridors. An old woman comes out of an antechamber to clasp the woman’s good arm.

“Furiosa,” she greets warmly. Her eyes drift to Kino, and Kino thinks that the way the woman’s hands twitch for a weapon is only calmed by Furiosa’s presence. 

“He won’t like another man being in here,” the old woman cautions. Kino doesn’t correct her, but watches Furiosa intently.

“Kino is a traveler, and my guest, I will take responsibility,” Furiosa says. The old woman frowns but steps aside to let them into the antechamber. White, gauzy draperies flutter at the windows, and a far wall is punctuated by white-swathed beds. In one of them, a woman sleeps. On another, two turn from where their sitting to smile up at the old woman and Furiosa. Their expressions turn wary as they face Kino.

“Who is that?” the woman with short dark hair and brown skin asks. 

“I’m Kino.” Kino replies, “I’m a traveler. I am looking to refill my water and get some gasoline for Hermes.” Kino pats the bike. 

“Where have you traveled?” asks a woman with white-blond hair. She scoots forward a little, leaning forward on her hands. 

“Lots of places. We’ve been traveling a long time. I’ve been to a land where there are no people any more, but robots live where the people used to. I’ve been to a land where the King made all travelers in his country fight to the death. I’ve been to a land of magicians where people can fly. I haven’t been everywhere.” Kino shrugs.

“Where people can fly?” one of the women scoffs. “You’re telling stories.” 

Kino looks at her calmly. “I’m not. The world is a beautiful place.” 

The woman snorts derisively. “Well, I’m not sure our ‘land’ would count as part of that beautiful world.” Kino shrugs noncommittally but doesn’t argue. 

“In your travels,” Furiosa says from behind Kino, “have you ever seen a green place?” 

Kino frowns. “I’ve seen places greener than this one, but not anywhere near here.” 

Furiosa turns her head, her gaze reaching far out the window as if she could see through the white gauze to some distant green isle. “It would be East of here,” she murmurs. 

“I haven’t been East of here yet,” Kino states. “Though I guess that’s the way I’m headed.” Furiosa’s eyes fix hard to Kino’s face. 

“We can give you water, and gasoline,” Furiosa says, “if you will come back if you find a green place to the East.” There’s the edge of something desperate in her voice. Kino never goes back, but the hope on the upturned faces of the white-garbed women makes Kino pause. Kino looks at Hermes, but the motorrad remains silent. 

“I can come back if I find a green place to the East.” Kino says. Furiosa nods.

“Follow me, let’s fill up your vehicle.” 

Kino nods farewell to the white-garbed women with their clean, pretty faces and anxious eyes. 

They follow the warren of hallways to another room with large oil drums. Furiosa waves down the densely muscled guard. His neck is wider than his head, making him look strange and hunched despite his height. Under his watchful eye, Kino fills Hermes’ tank, and an extra gallon jug. Kino wheels Hermes behind Furiosa and doesn’t look back as they leave. Down a few more hallways and around a corner, there are columns of metal pipes larger than Kino. An array of spigots bristle out from the pipes’ circumference. Furiosa twists one open with her metal hand, while gesturing for Kino’s water pouch with the other. Kino hands it over, watching the bag inflate, not a drop spilling to the slightly damp stone beneath. Furiosa twists the valve shut before the bag can overfill and exchanges it for Kino’s next pouch. They repeat the process once more, then Kino carefully packs away all three of the water pouches. 

“You should leave.” Furiosa says. The corridors resound with the pounding echo of hundreds of feet. Kino nods. It makes sense to leave now in order to return later and still keep the 3 day rule. 

“Alright,” Kino says. Furiosa guides Kino back towards the entrance. The white skeletons flow around them, parting like a river around Furiosa’s rock. A squashed man, small and lumpy in his electric chair wheels to block in front of them.

“Furiosa,” he whines, “who is that?” 

“A traveler,” Furiosa says tersely, “who is leaving. I was hoping for information to plan better traveling routes for the war rig to prevent attack. They were very helpful, and now they’re leaving.”

“But shouldn’t Immortan Joe-”

“He doesn’t need to trouble himself with this.” Furiosa says. The man in the chair opens his mouth, but Furiosa brushes past him before he can speak. Kino nods politely and wheels Hermes around him. 

“I didn’t like their cars,” Hermes says as they ride away. Kino glances down at him.

“You were awfully quiet.” 

“There wasn’t anyone I’d want to talk to!” Hermes disdains, “except maybe those girls, but I didn’t want to frighten them. Are we going to look for their Green Place?”

“I guess so.” Kino agrees. They drive East, ignoring the distant bristling shapes of cities to either side. Kino doesn’t stop, even when the sun sets, and they drive through the twilight into the dark of the canyon maze. Hermes keeps his light off, and Kino scans the tops of the cliffs, where the occasional dance of flame shows a cook fire. When they get close, Kino wheels Hermes’ along, only the sound of their crunching footfalls and tire tracks to possibly give them way. In the quiet darkness they slip through and out onto the stretch of desert on the far side. When the ground starts to go soft and soggy under Hermes’ wheels, Kino stops and back tracks a bit to rest on solid ground. At first light, the eerie, sucking swamp has rolled fog over the horizon. 

“I don’t know, Kino,” Hermes says, “We might never be able to get the mud out of my tires. Do we really have to go through there?” 

“Yes,” Kino says. Even with their combined weight, Hermes can carry Kino through the swamp without getting bogged down. Their steady progress spits them back out onto firm land before the fog has even been fully blown away. Revving the motor and readjusting goggles, Kino points them East.

 

There is a girl weeping on top of an old tower. 

“She’s crying,” Hermes says, “we should do something.” 

“Are you alright?” Kino calls up. The woman falls silent.

“Kino, give her your coat, she’s naked.” Hermes demands. Kino sighs and drops the kickstand to dismount. Before Kino can unpack the rolled up bundle of her long coat, the woman is spidering down the tower. As she reaches the bottom of the tower she shrugs on a flowing scrap of cloth, wrapping it around her waist. Kino’s rolls the coat over her arm, now hesitating to offer it. It’s the only long coat Kino has, and it’s hard to know when and where Kino might drive back into the snow. 

“You would offer me your coat?” the woman asks.

“I was considering it.” Kino says, “But it’s my only one, do you need it?” The woman considers Kino, eyes roaming over Kino’s slim frame.

“Where are you from, who are you?”

“I am Kino. I’m a traveler. I’m not from anywhere anymore. I was once from a land of adults where everyone was happy to do their duty, and more recently I came from a land of skeletons and hoarded plants and dry earth.” Kino explains. “Are you from here?” 

The woman shrugs noncommittally but her eyes are sharp. “You’ve been many places then.” She says. Kino nods. The woman waves a hand, and at her signal the hills around erupt in the growl of engines. The motorcyclists roar up to surround them in a loose ring. Kino’s hand does not twitch for a Persuader, but Kino breathes calmly, arms loose and ready to quick-draw at a moment’s notice.

“You should tell us of the places you’ve traveled. We’re looking for a new home, somewhere to cultivate our gardens, but everywhere here is poisoned or dry.” the woman says. Kino follows the women back to their camp. 

Kino spends the day hiding under the thin tarp from the hot sun and telling the women, young and old, of her travels over the world. They laugh at the story of the country of celebrators dressed as cats and ask awed questions of the country of sorrows where the pall of depression was sung over the gondoliers on their silent waterways by a young girl. 

“You’ve truly been to all these places.” one of the old women says. “I remember somewhere like that, a very long time ago, when I was just a little girl. So much has changed since then.” 

“There are long stretches of wasteland between the fertile places, it’s true. But they do still exist. I think most people never travel far enough to find out.” Kino says mildly.

“You’ve crossed the oceans?” one of the younger women asks, “I’ve heard about the oceans.” 

“I saw an old map of the world once. There are so many places, so many people with so much space between all of them. But I am a traveler, so I go where Hermes will take me.” 

“Kino picks the route, though,” Hermes adds. One of the old women laughs.

“The relationship between a rider and their bike is an important one,” she says. 

Kino pats Hermes lightly. They talk together under the tarp until the sun stretches red shadows over the sand.

“Sleep here tonight,” says one of the younger women, “then continue your journey rested in the morning. We will keep watch.” 

“Alright,” Kino says. “How far East have you gone? I’m going to keep looking for a place with green plants and water.” 

The oldest woman shakes her head.“There’s nowhere green east of here. We once drove for weeks and there was nothing but desert, so we had to come back.” 

Kino sighs, but thanks her, before rolling up in a blanket to sleep by Hermes’ side.

 

The desert does seem unending in Kino’s ride to the East. This land has been the driest and harshest Kino has ever traveled through. Sometimes Kino meets other people, traveling caravans wavering up out of the heat waves of sand, and small enclaves crowded around the rare oasis of fresh water. Nowhere Kino travels could qualify as a green place. Eventually Kino finds the place where the rolling dunes roll straight into the dark blue waves of ocean surf. The water is cool against Kino’s hot skin and Kino spends a day alone between waves of sand and waves of cold blue and frothy white. Then they turn around. Kino is sad to return to Furiosa with no word of a Green Place; just to be sure, Kino takes a different, meandering route back. 

When Kino first sees the green spires, it isn’t a recognizable place. The cascades of verdant creepers obscure the harsh rock faces of the mesas. Kino skirts a blue-tiled pool, towards the base of the Mesa. It abuts the rock wall, the angular patterns of the varying shades of tile flickering up through clear water in the sunlight’s glint. Rows of tents and more permanent dwellings are pitched along its far side, and young children, half naked or swathed in loose white garments splash in the water. Their eyes follow Kino’s progress. There are stairs carved into the cliff side, and though Kino could follow the switch-backing pathway up, it would be impossible to drag Hermes along over such a distance. The creaking metal of the wide platform Kino was first lifted on still exists. Kino climbs aboard, wondering if there might be some bell to pull or signal to let people above know of a traveler’s arrival. Before Kino can call out however, the platform begins to ascend. 

“I think they’re different from before,” Hermes points out.

“I hope so,” Kino agrees. 

When the platform halts, Kino looks out into warmly lit halls. The caverns have been redone, smoothed out and widened, and in places of sunshine plants unfurl their abundance of green. The handful of young men who worked diligently to raise the platform for Kino come forward to introduce themselves. Kino nods politely in return.

“I’m Kino, I’m a traveler. Does a woman named Furiosa live here still?” One of the younger boys nods.

“She does! Are you a friend of Furiosa?” His voice has an awed quality.

“We’ve met before,” Kino states mildly. The boy nods again, bouncing a little to lead Kino with him down one of the gracefully curving hallways. His black hair curls tight against his head, and the white drapery of his thin robe contrasts to his dark skin. Kino wonders if this boy was one of the white-caked skeletons she’d seen before. Kino doesn’t recognize warren of hallways much either. There are seemingly massive rooms teeming with green and growing racks of plants, a room next to that buzzing with the golden sound of beehives. People still run through the halls, or sit talking in sun-filled rooms. Kino sees a group of older women dutifully working at large looms, possibly producing the white cloth everyone seems to be wearing. 

“She’s probably in with the Council,” the boy says, stopping to look at Kino, then back at another short hallway ending in what seems to be another large room. “You can probably go in, they’d be happy to greet a traveler I think.” 

Kino nods in thanks and wheels Hermes down the hall. The room it opens into at its end has a high ceiling, green-dappled sunlight filtering down through windows growing over in vines. A circle of chairs sits around a large central table. Around that, though a few steps back from the center circle are benches forming a U. No one sits at the head of the table, the open end of the U. The woman who is speaking stops when Kino enters. She looks over her shoulder and Kino vaguely recognizes her face. Perhaps one of the women in the room Furiosa had shown her. 

“I believe that concludes our concerns about water sustainability for the month. Next, Toast was going to share the update from the power team about the institution of the few photovoltaic panels we’ve rehabilitated, but first it seems we have a visitor.” 

Kino wheels Hermes forward. “I’m Kino, this is Hermes. I’m a traveler, and I’d like to speak with Furiosa.” The woman smiles and brushs her bright red hair back from her face.

“Furiosa’s out at the moment; she’s leading a party scrounging for more parts. The desert storms destroy most things, but they found a ghost town that might have more of the solar panels we can use,” the woman says. “They should be back tomorrow. You’re welcome to stay and wait to speak with her.” 

Kino looks at Hermes.

“This place doesn’t creep me out any more,” Hermes says. “We can stay the night.”

“How gracious of you,” Kino murmurs. To the council Kino says, “We are thankful for your hospitality. I would like to stay the night.” A very old woman stands slowly to her feet.

“We have an extra bed in my wing, you can stay there. I’d love to hear more about your travels since we last saw you.” The woman’s grin is missing a few teeth but Kino can’t help answering the good cheer with a smile. 

“Thank you,” Kino says again.

“Would you like to rest now?” The old woman asks. “I can lead you there.” Kino looks around the rest of the council; there are nine women, ranging from the fresh-faced red head to the eldest white haired grandmother with a variety of ages in between, and four men sitting at the table. Most of the benches making up the U around the table aren’t taken; some young boys sit on one bench, and an old man with sun hardened skin sits on another. One bench, slightly farther back, is occupied with women and a few men all working to spin clouds of white fluff into thread on drop spindles as they listen. Kino could stay and listen.

“I think I would like to rest,” Kino finally decides. It’s been a long while driving back across the desert. This land is so very parched and empty everywhere else. The old woman smiles understandingly and Kino follows her from the room. 

The old woman leads Kino to a room furnished with a collection of beds. Though it isn’t where Kino visited the last time, the comparison is obvious. Here sunlight dapples patterned color onto the floor where the different colors of glass comprising the windows have been arranged and soldered into colorful scenes of gardens. That art is echoed in the overflowing pots of plants and the sweet floral scent that envelops the place. 

“That bed is free,” the old woman says, gesturing to the turned-down white blankets. Kino props Hermes under the verdant green curl of a hanging fern, and runs a hand over the thicker weave of the white blanket. 

“It’s amazing to see how this place has changed,” Kino murmurs. The old woman smiles. 

“We were certainly happy to see it change,” she says. “I imagine it was still Immortan Joe’s hostage when you first visited.”

“I never met the leader, but my impression of him wasn’t favorable,” Kino admits. “Furiosa asked me to look for a Green Place in my travels, but I never did find one near here.” 

“Ah,” the old woman says and sits on the bed next to Kino’s, “I may have an answer to that question.” So Kino sits and listens while the old woman describes the poisoning of the Land of the Many, and the battle to retake the last green place, the one Immortan Joe held hostage. 

“I see.” Kino says. Hermes thanks the woman for her story and she laughs.

“It’s true, that’s more dramatic than I could have dreamed up,” she says “The real world has a funny way of being more impressive, and more complicated than a fairytale. Furiosa found her green place, and we found a new hope for our seeds, and our futures.”  
“That is nice,” Kino agrees. 

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you if you’re tired.” The old woman creaks to her feet. “Someone will come by to direct you to dinner. And we’ll help provision you for your next journey, unless you’re staying?”

With a smile and a head shake Kino says, “I’m a traveler. Though this time, I am more tempted to stay. But I think we’ll appreciate your hospitality tonight, and leave tomorrow.” 

The old woman nods.“I thought that might be the case. The world needs travelers, but travelers also need hospitality. You will always be welcome here.” She grins again. “And if you happen to meet an odd, quiet man on your travels, do tell him we say hi, and let him know he’s welcome to return whenever he should like.” The woman pats Kino’s shoulder kindly. “Even travelers need to have a home.” 

Kino doesn’t correct the woman but nods dutifully. 

“Bye!” Hermes calls to her retreating back. Kino sighs and sets to removing boots and unbuttoning the over-shirt that’s gotten quite dusty in the last months of travel in the desert. One Persuader gets tucked under the pillow, but Kino doesn’t think it’ll be necessary. In the warm swaths of blue, green, and orange light from the window, Kino drifts off to sleep.


End file.
